_Mr. T. (with some complacency)._ Yes, yes, I've always been extremely firm on that subject, and also on the dangers of dancing--indeed, I have almost succeeded in putting an entire stop to the children dancing to piano-organs in the streets of this neighbourhood--a most reprehensible custom! _Mrs. T._ Yes, THEOPHILIUS, and you might have stopped it long before you did, if you had taken my suggestion earlier. I hope I am not to infer, from your manner, that you are yourself addicted to these so-called pleasures, CHARLES? _Charles._ Dancing in the street to a piano-organ, Aunt? Never did such a thing in my life! _Mrs. T._ That was not my meaning, CHARLES, as you very well know. I hope you employ your evenings in improving your knowledge of your profession. I should be sorry to think you frequented theatres. _Charles (demurely)._ Theatres? rather not, Aunt, never go near 'em. (_To himself._) Catch me going where I can't smoke! (_Aloud._) You see, when a fellow has lodgings in a nice cheerful street in Bloomsbury, it isn't likely he'd want to turn out of an evening after sticking hard at the office all day! _Mrs. T._ I am glad to hear you say so, CHARLES. It is quite a mistake for a young man to think he cannot do without amusement. Your Uncle never thought of amusing himself when he was young--or our married life would not be what it is. And look at Mr. CURPHEW, who is coming in to supper to-night, see how hard _he_ works--up to town every afternoon, and not back till long after midnight. [_The bell rings._ _Charles._ Rather queer hours to work, Aunt. Are you sure he doesn't go up just to read the paper? _Althea (with a slight flush)._ He goes up to _write_ it, CHARLES. Mr. CURPHEW is on the press, and has taken rooms here for the air of the Common. And--and he is very clever, and works very hard indeed; you can see that from his looks. _Ph[oe]be (announcing)._ Mr. CURPHEW. [_A tall slim young man enters, with a pale, smooth-shaven face, and rather melancholy eyes, which light up as he greets_ ALTHEA. _Mrs. T._ How do you do, Mr. CURPHEW? You are a little late--but some services last longer than others. Oh, PH[OE]BE, now I think of it, just bring me a paper you will find in one of the pockets of Mr. COLLIMORE'S overcoat; it's hanging up in the hall--the drab one with grey velvet on the collar. (PH[OE]BE _goes_.) It's a circular, Mr. CURPHEW, which was given out in our Church this evening, and may interest you to see. _Ph[oe]be (returning)._ If you please, m'm, this is the only paper I could find.